Wounds of War
by Archaic Angel
Summary: During the night Harry changes, he becomes something else. After seven years of searching for a cure he winds up in the home of none other than Severus Snape. Can Snape cure Harry? Or will Harry cure Snape? HPSS
1. Things may not be hopeless

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, or anything else. I'm just a poor student who has nothing better to do than write Snarry when I should be working on my summer projects. And this contains slight HBP spoilers, just to let you know, and of course, slash. This is well past VWII so Harry is of age.

A polite knock on the door to the large study in which he was residing brought the man back to reality, forcing him to abandon his intense research. The man was rather old, having just celebrated his one-hundred eightieth birthday, with a large gut and a bald spot on the apex of his head. He placed a well-worn leather bookmark on the page of the ancient tome he had been reading and set it down on a table near the over-stuffed arm chair he was sitting in and called to whomever was at the door.

"Who is it?" his voice had a slightly annoyed tone to it, as his current research was of the up most importance.

"Sherry, Mr. Gremion," the voice of his timid house-elf answered him.

"Well come in," his replied, impatient. "Now what is it?" he asked, as she entered the room.

"It's Mr. Potter, sir," she explained, her eyes never leaving the carpeting beneath her feet. "He is making a large ruckus and demands to see you. He has nearly destroyed master's favorite vase, if it wasn't for Nimmy it would most certainly be in pieces. Sherry is worried he will break something,"

"Thank you for informing me," Gremion sighed and got up out of his chair. "Go inform the impatient Mr. Potter that I will be with him in a moment," he ordered. "And ask him to please refrain from destroying my home in the interim,"

"Sherry will do what master asks," she said, bowing and disappearing to go relay his message to Harry Potter.

Yves Gremion was not the type of person that you could rush, and that was exactly what Mr. Potter was doing to him. As he waddled to the door of his study he resolved not to be bullied into dropping all of his other projects to work solely on his case. As of yet he had made no progress on the potion that he had been requested to make, and he was doubting that he even would. As quickly as his girth would let him, he shuffled through the hall until he reached the foyer where Mr. Potter was busy yelling at his house elf.

"He isn't even going to come is he?" the man screamed at Sherry, who quickly dodged the clock that he threw at her. "You go back there and tell him that if he doesn't meet with me _now_-" he picked up a silver candlestick.

"You'll what, Mr. Potter? Hold my candlestick hostage?" Gremion asked, coming into the foyer and removing the item from Harry's hand. As he did so he caught a whiff of the man's breath and detected the unmistakable scent of firewhisky. "You are drunk," he stated, placing one of his hands on the man's back. "Let's go into my office where we can talk about this further,"

"No," Harry replied, shoving Gremion's hand away. "I want you to tell me right now if you've found a cure,"

"Mr. Potter, I think it would be easier for the both of us if you just settle down and we could discuss this like adults," he explained, trying to be patient.

"Tell me right now," he ordered. "Have you found a cure or are you just wasting my time?"

"No, I haven't made any progress," he explained. "But don't think all hope is lost yet," Gremion called out to Harry as he turned to leave.

"Forget it. I'm not paying you anymore," Harry called behind him, nonchalantly, although he was still angry. He walked up to the front door and threw it open, finding satisfaction with the dents he left in it by treating it so roughly. "I'll find someone else to help me,"

"Who are you going to turn to Mr. Potter?" Gremion asked, as Harry left his house. "There isn't anyone else. You've gone to everyone else. No one else will help you,"

Gremion's yelling was in vain as Harry just continued walking out the door and off of his property, mumbling about how useless the former Potions Master was. Gremion had been teaching at Hogwarts quite a while ago and he had gone to him as a last resort. He had been right, he had exhausted the sources of the wizarding world. St. Mungo's couldn't help him, neither could Hermione or anyone else he had gone to for help.

After seven long years of searching for a cure to his ailment he had run out of people to turn to and his Gringott's account was dwindling. The Ministry of Magic had awarded him a reasonable sum of money after the defeat of Voldemort, which was also seven years ago, but he had spent all that money and a good deal of his parent's money to pay various Potions experts and others to try to find a cure. No one had even come close.

Once out of sight of Gremion's house, he apparated to his apartment in Muggle London. It was rather small, and situated over a karaoke bar so it was difficult to sleep most nights; although that wasn't the sole reason. He didn't have a job, his condition made being an auror our of the question, so he just lay down on his couch and tried to sleep since it was the middle of the day and the bar was only open at night.

When he next woke Harry noted with extreme disdain that it was the evening, and the sun would be setting very soon. Unlike most people he dreaded the dusk, the changing colors of the sky brought to him only misery and pain. As the sky performed its dance of red and gold Harry couldn't help but be drawn towards he window to watch. He watched the sun begin its descent behind the buildings of London, with dread.

As soon as the last sliver of the sun vanished from view Harry Potter went through a horrid change. As he writhed in pain, his plain Muggle jeans and shirt turned into black fur which spread slowly over his entire body. His entire body changed, arms becoming paws, nose becoming snout, ears moving to the top of his head and changing shape. The process concluded, and with it the intense pain slowly abated and left Harry looking like your average and normal panther.

His transformations were the reason he had scoured all of the wizarding world to find the best Potions Masters and persuade them to try and help him by using his large bank account. It always failed though, no one could help him and he was at the end of his money, and resources. He was beginning to wonder if he should simple resign himself to living like this, being a human by day and panther by night.

He growled at the thought, and began to pace around the room planning his next move. He knew that there was one person that may be able to help him, although he had resolved to try every single other avenue open to him before seeking out his former Potions Master. In truth he had explored every single other possibility and now he was up to the challenge of finding Severus Snape.

Confident in his plans, which were no more definite at the time than that he would find Snape, he walked over to his bed with its claw gouged mattress and lay down on it. He did not fall asleep immediately. The sounds of drunken renditions of popular Muggle songs kept him awake. It was not until well after midnight that he finally dozed off, only to awaken a few hours later by the dawn and the equally painful reversal of the transformation; leaving him human once more.

The next morning, after downing one of his pre-made anti-hangover potions, he set out to the Ministry of Magic to use some of his resources there, namely Hermione, to get the necessary information needed to find Snape. He had disappeared shortly after the war for reasons unknown. Harry knew it would be difficult to find him without help.

He went out into London and arrived at the alley, covered with graffiti, where the telephone booth that lead to the Ministry of Magic. Repeating the entrance process that he had undergone several times he typed in the correct numbers on the telephone pad (6-2-4-4-2) and was put through to the receptionist, told her his name (Harry Potter) and why he was here (to visit Hermione Weasley) and received the customary silver badge. Once he was inside he navigated through he large underground building until he reached Hermione's office.

Head of the International Magical Office of Law

Hermione Weasley

He knocked on the door lightly.

"Come in," came the voice of his long time friend.

Harry did as she ordered, opening the door and walking into her office. "Are you busy, Hermione?" he asked, noticing that she had a large stack of parchments in front of her.

"Not really," she said, looking up and smiling at him. "I haven't seen you in a while,"

"Well, you have been in Egypt for the past few months," he retorted.

"Any progress?" Hermione asked.

"Actually that's what I wanted to see you about," Harry explained, sitting down in one of the two chairs in her office. "I need you to help me find Snape,"

"You want his help?"

"No, I _need_ his help," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "I fired Gremion. There isn't any one else,"

"I'll try, Harry," she said, sympathetic. "I just can't promise anything. You wont find him if he doesn't want to be found,"

"You make him sound omnipotent," Harry muttered. "He's just a wizard,"

"I'm not making him out to be omnipotent. He's just clever, and most likely would have taken the necessary measures to make sure we can't find him," she sighed "The Ministry of Magic isn't omnipotent either, and neither am I,"

"Just try," he pleaded, knowing that she would try as hard as she could if asked.

"I will," she confirmed. "Just don't expect a miracle,"

"A miracle is exactly what I need. It's what I'm expecting from Snape," he noticed how serious his voice had gotten and smiled to try to lighten up his mood. "How's Arthur?" he asked, referring to Hermione and Ron's first born. They had named him after Ron's father whom had perished in the final battle.

"He's fine, and really giving Ron a handful," she smiled too, relieved to be off of such a dark topic. "His fifth birthday is this Saturday. Are you coming?"

"I'll try," was all he promised. If Hermione told him where he could find Snape before then, he would go there immediately and not attend the party.

"Fair enough," Hermione smiled, recognizing that Harry was throwing her own comment back at her. He hadn't been himself lately, after so many devastating setbacks, and she knew that when he started to do things like that he was feeling better.

"I've got to go," he said, slightly apologetically. "I should leave you to your work," he left without getting a goodbye in return, Harry just walked out and shut the door behind him.

Once outside the Ministry of Magic Harry decided to walk around Muggle London a bit, just to avoid having to go back to his dismal apartment for a while longer. He felt like this was just a temporary phase, and that once this was resolved he could move on with the rest of his life.

It was days before he received the owl containing the necessary information from Hermione.

Dear Harry,

I have discovered where our elusive former Professor is living. It took an enormous amount of detective work to do so. I just hope it can help you with your predicament. There is a Dimidatus Curor Prince, which roughly translates in Latin into Half Blood Prince so I assume it's Snape, living in a village called Currow. His actual address is 10 Abditum Drive. I can't write much more, Arthur is trying to set Ron on fire again.

Your Friend,

Hermione Weasley

Harry smiled, and immediately shoved the piece of parchment in the pocket of his jean jacket. He went around his apartment, gathering the items necessary for a trip to Currow and shoving them in a backpack as he prepared to leave. It didn't take long for him to gather up enough things, he had enough money for the trip, and he could always owl Gringott's for more.

After taking a quick glance around the apartment just to make sure he hadn't forgotten something, he exited it and locked the door behind him. Luckily it was early morning and he could venture a large distance before night came and he had to hide from the prying eyes of Muggles. And so he set out, stopping first to buy a bus ticket that would take him about halfway and then entered a little pub for a bit of breakfast. Apparation was out of the question, since it was near impossible to apparate somewhere you've never been and Harry hated the sensation.

After a shoddily made meal of sausage and eggs, he exited the pub and reached the bus station just in time to catch his bus before he left. It was much cleaner than the Knight Bus, being Muggle transport and some Muggles were picky about stuff like that, but the riders were every bit as strange.

He noticed that there was a group of middle aged women, easily his Aunt Petunia's age, that were seated right behind him. They were giggling and pointing at him, although he tried to appear as if he didn't notice.

"Shouldn't you be in school, boy?" one of them asked, prodding his shoulder with a long and probably manicured nail.

"It is a Saturday," he replied. "And I'm twenty-four," he figured they were trying to flatter him since he certainly did not look like he would still be in school, he most definitely looked twenty-four and several people had accused him of looking even older.

"I'm only thirty-four," another one of them piped up. "And what's ten years?" She was obviously lying about her age, she looked much older than thirty-four.

"All of you are old enough to be my mother," he snickered.

"Well, If I was your mother I would surely slap you for being so rude," the one whom had first spoken said indignantly.

"Good thing you're not my mother then," Harry replied in the rudest tone he could muster, all he had to do was pretend they were Snape.

"I'm sure yours never did a very good job," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. "Raising you to be so rude to your elders,"

"Don't you talk about my mother that way," he jumped out of his seat and turned around to face the woman that had made the statement. "She was a wonderful person. And all I am trying to do it stop a bunch of old hags from hitting on me,"

"Get away from me, boy," the woman said, scooting as far away from him as possible; pushing her friend up against the window.

"Sit back down," the driver called as he stopped the bus along the middle of the highway. "I wont have a fight on my bus,"

"I'm just leaving," Harry said, walking to the front of the bus and just walking off of it. He was only about halfway to halfway to Currow, which translated into that he only had come a quarter of the entire way.

He sighed, here he was standing on the side of the road with only his backpack full of vital supplies and many miles ahead of him to Currow. Harry knew that he only had one option, so he stuck out his wand to signal the Knight Bus. He had avoided wanting to use Wizarding transport since he was still a very popular figure but figured that this time it couldn't be helped.

"'ello," the familiar voice of Stan Shunpike said as the giant purple bus pulled to a quick stop in front of him. "Where to?"

"Currow," Harry answered, climbing onto the bus with his backpack still slung over his shoulder.

"Traveling quite far aren't we, Mr. Potter?" he commented, as he led Harry to one of the chairs situated throughout the bottom level of the bus.

"I'm meeting someone there," Harry explained, taking a seat.

"Alright then, to Currow it is," he discreetly handed Harry the bill, which he quickly paid.

The Knight Bus lurched forward, dashing between cars and narrowly avoiding tipping over on several occasions. Harry barely noticed as his chair slid back and forth as they swerved through traffic, having fallen asleep shortly after they had started moving. It had become his habit to get lots of sleep during the day, taking several naps to accomplish this. Sometimes he wondered if it was due to the fact that he turned into a giant cat every night or if it was due to his lack of proper sleep.

"Mr. Potter," Stan called, kicking Harry's foot. "Wake up, we're in Currow,"

Harry yawned and stretched his arms up above his head. "Right, thanks Stan," he exited the bus, watching as it sped off and eventually disappeared in the distance.

Currow was a small village, with a main street going through it's center and several other less prominent streets radiating off of it. He had made it sufficiently further than he had planned on, he was in Currow with several hours to spare until sunset. Harry wondered when Hedwig would arrive, he had told her that he would be arriving in Currow in two days instead of one. Still, she always seemed to know where he was.

He decided to use that time fully, to locate 10 Abditum Drive as soon as he possibly could. First, though, he would most certainly have to eat. He located a small restaurant, usually it only served the locals since Currow was too small and too far away from anything to be a tourist spot.

The Crow's Feet was a nice small restaurant, the sign announcing its name also made the claim that it had the best pies in the area. Harry didn't suppose that there were many other shops selling pies in the area, so chances are they didn't have much competition. He had a piece with his meal anyway. The sign was right, it was very good.

After getting some food into his stomach, he set off again. He had asked the waitress where Abditum Drive was and found it to be one of those roads leading off of the main one, one on the other side of Currow. This wasn't very far as Currow was not a large village at all, it only had a population of 483 people as stated on the Welcome to Currow sign.

In five minutes he was standing in front of 10 Abditum Drive, the home of his former Potions Professor Severus Snape. It was not a very large house, two stories tall with a front porch that sagged in the middle as did the roof. The windows were grimy all had curtains drawn behind him so Harry couldn't peer in and see if he was actually home.

He cast a glance around him on all sides and, after making sure there was no one watching, he pulled out his wand and said "_Alohamora_," It had no effect. "Figures, the greasy git must have bewitched it," After coming to this conclusion Harry pulled out the knife that the late Sirius had given him and used that to open the door.

Inside everything was dark, the only light coming in through the curtains which still left the room's atmosphere rather gloomy. It wasn't messy or dirty, it seemed quite nice actually although it had the distinct smell of books. It slightly reminded him of the Hogwarts library , even more so when he ventured into the living room. Every single inch of wall space was occupied by bookshelves. There was also a fireplace with several chairs placed around it with piles of books stacked at their feet.

He bent down to examine them and found they contained titles such as 'The Correct Filleting of the Fennysnake', 'Ancient Potions for the Modern Potion Maker' and 'A Time to Brew: A Look at How the Time of Day that a Potion is Made Effects its Effectiveness'. There were hundreds of similar titles, most of them about Potions with a fair number devoted to the Dark Arts.

As he was perusing the books on the shelf he heard a shrill shriek. "Intruder," a high pitched voice screamed. "It's an intruder," Harry whirled around to see what the voice was coming from. It was a miniature dragon, green in color, that was flying towards him. "Go away," it said, a stream of fire came out of its mouth and caught Harry's sleeve on fire.

"_Doso_," he muttered, holding his wand to his sleeve and the fire was put out immediately. The tiny dragon kept on trying to set various parts of him on fire. "_Immobilus," _he said, pointing his want at the dragon, effectively freezing it in thin air. "Pesky little thing," he muttered, walking around it to explore the rest of the house.

As he entered the foyer again, he heard the familiar 'pop' of someone apparating and the also familiar silky voice of Severus Snape. "What are you doing here, Potter? It was said with such disdain that it could only be Snape, and so Harry turned around to see his former Professor standing in front of the door with one of his glares fixed on Harry.

TO BE CONTINUED…

A/N: I'll be away on vacation for the next couple days so it might be a week or so before I can update next. Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, just e-mail me at reminderoflosttimes yahoo. com (take out the spaces) if you're interested.


	2. A small step forward

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, J.K. Rowling created the Potterverse; I just play here.

"What are you doing here, Potter," Snape sneered as he caught the intruder walking across his foyer. He recognized the boy immediately, although he wasn't a boy anymore. The brat had matured, he was taller, older. Even so, he still had the same messy hair, Lily's eyes, and telltale scar on his forehead that made identifying him all too easy. Snape found him to still be exceedingly arrogant, sneaking around his house.

He had first been alerted to the intrusion when the amulet hanging around his neck glowed a bright red, meaning that someone was inside his house. He immediately went to a secluded place and apparated back home, only to find Harry Potter striding through his foyer. He obviously must have incapacitated Fennel, his security system fashioned from a dragon statue.

As soon as he had spoken, Harry whirled around to face him; looking like a child with his hand caught in a jar of Cockroach Clusters. "I need your help," Harry stated, not intimidated by the glare on Snape's face.

"Why should I help you?"

"If I had any other option I wouldn't be here," he explained, his hatred for his former Professor rising.

"That did not answer my question," Snape replied coldly, stepping around him to enter the room Harry had just vacated. "Especially since you have violated my home and assaulted my security,"

"That little dragon thing was your security?" Harry asked, incredulously. "He was a pushover,"

"He served his purpose, warning me of an intruder," he explained, returning the dragon statue in question to mobility. "He was also to keep you distracted until I could arrive,"

"I'd say he failed miserably at that,"

"You only observe the very obvious, Potter. That is one of the reasons that you were so atrocious at Potions. Did you stop to think what would have happened if he hadn't intervened? He delayed you just enough so that you didn't have the time to make it further into my home before I could arrive," He explained in his most condescending voice. "Are you going to explain what you need help with or are you going to attempt to further insult my house,"

"I have a problem," Harry said, taking a deep breath as the prepared to launch into the full story.

"I was able to figure that out, what I need are details,"

"Let me finish," he protested.

"Well then finish, unless you'd rather waste my precious time further," Snape leaned against the door frame of his living room, observing Harry with the same coldness and contempt that he had always had for the brat; even after the fall of Voldemort.

"When the sun goes down-" Harry was interrupted by his alarm watch screeching to announce that the sun was indeed setting and he had only moments before the change would begin. "I think you're about to see,"

Snape said nothing but watched as Harry's face contorted in pain as he grew fur and transformed from a human being into a black panther with eyes the same shade of green that they had been when he was human. His cry of pain turned into the inhuman growl of an animal, what he had become.

Snape had heard changes like this mentioned in some of his oldest Potions tomes, human by day and animal by night. There had even been mentions of it in Muggle fairy tales, evidence of a botched coverup by previous Wizarding generations. He would have to pull out some of his older books to do research. He knew that he would help Potter, he had saved his life in the final battle and this would be a way for Snape to repay him, plus he hadn't had this type of challenge for years.

"Very well, Potter," Snape addressed the panther, who was looking at him as if he had expected an answer. "I will help you. Do try not to leave claw marks in my couch,"

Harry growled in response, but accepted the invitation to stay the night and curled up on the couch; falling asleep quickly without the distracting sounds of drunken melodies the floor below him.

Dawn came. He wasn't expecting it, and his watch didn't alert him to it because it had become fur and did not have the capability to alarm him, and so he managed to tear up one of the cushions of the couch and a great deal of the floor which he rolled onto sometime during the change. Human again, he lay on the floor, among the ruins of what was once carpet, for a while before getting up and surveying the damage.

Usually he didn't destroy furniture, but then usually he was not spending the night on the couch of one of the men that he hated most in the world. He was fairly certain that his anger was the cause of the destruction, that and him being caught unaware when dawn came.

"I thought I had told you not to demolish my couch," he turned around to see Snape standing in the doorway.

"You said not to get claw marks in it. I ripped it apart, there is a difference and you didn't even mention anything about the carpet," Harry smirked, glad that he had lost control at the look that was residing on Snape's face.

"_Reparo_," Everything was fixed and looked like it had never been damaged at all.

"What's for breakfast?" Harry asked, feeling a sudden surge of boldness.

"There is not going to be any," Snape said, getting satisfaction from Harry's disappointed face. "I assume that you are capable of securing your own breakfast. Or am I overestimating your abilities. Do your talents not extend to procuring meals?"

"I think I've had enough of you lobbing insults at me," Harry stated. "I think I'll just leave, owl me when you've got the potion ready,"

"Then you will never receive that owl,"

"What? Why? You said you'd help me," he protested.

"I will need some information before I can begin to brew," Snape clarified. "I cannot be expected to make such a complex potion with as little knowledge as I have now,"

"What do you need to know?" Harry asked.

"How did this happen?"

"Sometime during the fight with Voldemort," Harry noticed how he cringed slightly when he said the name. "I don't know exactly,"

"I said how not when," Snape reminded him coldly, still able to make Harry feel inferior although he was no longer his student. "Are you too thick to make the distinction between the two?"

"I don't know how. I didn't even know that it had happened until when I woke up in St. Mungo's a week later," Harry said, his voice carried a hint of sadness. "I had transformed in my sleep every night. They had to put me in a special ward. Anything else you need to know?"

"Do you recall what happens at night? Or are you like your beloved werewolf, unable to control yourself when the moon rises,"

"It has nothing to do with the moon, it's the sun," Harry contradicted him. "And yes, I remember everything, I have control over everything,"

"I have all that I require. You may, as you previously expressed the desire to, leave,"

"When will you be done?" Harry called out, seeing Snape retreating into the recesses of his house.

"The first trial should be done in a little over a months time,"

Harry was disappointed that he would have to wait over a month for just the first trial, he wanted results quicker than that. He knew that he had no other choice, so he apparated back to his flat in London and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for himself; not because he was hungry but because Snape had made him feel incompetent. By making breakfast he proved to himself that Snape was wrong about him, like always.

The following weeks passed by in a blur, each day blending into another. He dragged himself to work, acting as an assistant to Fred Weasley at his joke shop. George had perished in the war and left Fred to managed the shop all by himself so he had offered to hire Harry when he found out that he was looking for work. It was mostly to keep busy, and Fred let him have an erratic work schedule so he could pursue a cure.

He was expecting an owl from Severus Snape, and was surprised when he sent the miniature green dragon to him. He had a letter clutched in his muzzle and looked rather worn out when he arrived on Harry's windowsill.

"Fennel has arrived," he announced proudly before collapsing onto the floor, taking the letter along with him.

"I need the letter," Harry impatiently told the dragon.

"Fennel will let the brat have it," and he released the piece of parchment into Harry's hand.

"Brat? You've been listening to Snape,"

"Master is wise on all topics," Fennel proclaimed proudly as he made a big show of lifting himself off of the ground.

"Teacher's pet," Harry muttered, reading over the note.

The first trial is completed

It wasn't even signed, although Harry knew it was Snape. It had only been three weeks, he must have finished it early.

"Master sends Fennel to tell pest that he should apparate immediately," the dragon ordered.

"Brat, pest. Can't the greasy git some up with something more inventive?"

"Master is not greasy!" Fennel protested, leaping up into the air and attempting to set Harry on fire.

Harry just rolled his eyes and apparated into Snape's foyer. As he expected, it was empty. He hadn't really thought that Snape would be waiting for him when he arrived. Harry did not have the slightest inkling where the greasy git was so he decided to go out and search for him.

It was not likely that this trial would work, so Harry tried not to get his hopes up. Years of disappointment aided him in this endeavor, but there was still that little bit of hope. It was near sunset, obviously Snape had waited to send for him so that they did not have to wait a long time before being able to see the results.

"Potter," the familiar voice of Snape shouted from behind him as he had just begun to walk up a flight of stairs. "Where are you going?"

"Looking for you,"

"I have been in my workshop," he stated.

"Where's that?" Harry asked, looking around.

"Follow me," Snape ordered, turning around and going down a long hallway; robes swishing behind him.

They went down a hallway, then turned and went down stairs into what must have been the basement. It looked almost identical to a Hogwarts dungeon, with several cauldrons full of potions all in various stages of developments. A plethora of smells assaulted Harry's senses, almost immediately his eyes started to water from the smoke coming off of one of the potions.

"If you feel the need to cry I would rather that you take care of the urge somewhere other than my personal workroom,"

"I'm not crying!" Harry argued. "It's the smoke,"

"Then do not be so daft to stand right over it," Snape grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him away from the potion. "Standing too close to that particular potion while it is being made will cause fainting,"

Harry had only stood near it for a short while and he already felts slightly woozy. "I see that," he swayed a little before feeling his head clear and was able to regain his footing.

"These are the first trials," he gestured to a row of seven potion bottles, all various shades of green. "It will take a week to test them all, and then I can begin to make adjustments,"

"Trials?" Harry asked, he had only expected one.

"Yes trials," Snape replied. "Did I not tell you that I would be making more than one at a time?"

"Which one will I test first?"

"This one," he pointed to the first one in the row, it was a deep green. Forest green, Harry decided was the name for that particular color.

Harry reached out and grabbed the first bottle, uncorking it and drinking it all in one gulp despite its horrid smell and taste. "You did test these out first, right?"

"There was no need,"

"What do you mean 'There was no need'?" Harry asked worriedly. "I could be sprouting several heads or turn blue,"

"The ingredients I used have no danger of interacting with each other in a way that would cause side effects," Snape elaborated. "That is what I meant by 'There was no need',"

"It's nearly sunset," Harry stated, looking at his watch.

"Get out of my workshop," Snape ordered. "I can not have you transform and destroy my valuable potions and supplies,"

"I'll just destroy the rest of your house then," he muttered in reply as he left the workshop followed shortly after by Snape.

Harry walked into the living room, waiting for the change to overtake him and to find out if the potion worked. The alarm on his watch went off, and a few minutes passed. Nothing happened. Harry's heart leapt into his chest. The sun was down. He was still human.

"It worked!" Harry shouted, feeling elated. "I can't believe it worked,"

Just as Harry was celebrating, he felt the immense pain associated with the change. He looked down in horror as his clothes changed into fur and spread over all of his skin. He did not understand, why had the potion not cured him. It had seemed so before.

"It appears that the particular dosage I gave you only delayed the change for a short while," Snape said to the growling panther. "I have stronger ones. The goal is to delay the change until sunrise so that it never happens," the Harry panther gave one last growl and walked down the hallway, into the living room, and onto the couch where he fell asleep.

The reversal of the change took place right at dawn, Harry was relieved that it was not delayed as well. This time he did not tear up the couch, only the carpet and he fixed it with a wave of his wand before Snape even saw it.

"Are you going to let me have breakfast today?" Harry asked, coming into the kitchen where he found Snape seated at the table; drinking the same potion he had seen him take all those days ago when he had first sought him out for help.

"Only if you make it yourself,"

"I will," he walked over to the row of cupboards lining the far wall, rummaging through them in search of food. They were almost bare, there were more cobwebs than actual food. "Don't you eat?"

"Yes, I do," Snape downed the last of his potion and sent it to the sink. "I just have not had the time to go to the store,"

"Well, then I'm going now," Harry declared, walking out of the kitchen. "Just because you enjoy starving doesn't mean I'm going to endure it,"

Twenty minutes, several galleons, and one trip to a Diagon Alley grocery store later Harry was standing in Severus Snape's foyer with a half dozen bags of groceries floating around him. He went into the kitchen, from which Snape had vanished, and put everything away. It had occurred to him to simply apparate back to his apartment and make breakfast there, but usually when he changed he did not have the energy to apparate too much. He figured it to be easier to simply make one trip to Diagon Alley so for the remainder of the week he could eat here and get some energy so he could apparate to his apartment later in the morning without feeling so horrid.

"I'm about to collapse," he groaned as he sat down at the table and bewitched the cooking utensils to make bacon and eggs. He watched in anticipation as the plate floated over to him, in a way reminiscent of a flying saucer. Harry wolfed down it as soon as it had touched the table, being ferociously hungry.

After he had had his fill, he magically cleaned all the dishes he used and put all of the groceries away. He was tempted to just take off but he figured that first he would have to tell Snape that he was going, just in case he needed to be around for some reason.

The place Harry decided to check first was the workshop, it seemed the most likely place since the rest of the house seemed like it hadn't been lived in. He walked down the hallway, and then down the stairs, pushing the door open and finding Snape standing over a cauldron. He was pouring something over his left arm, the arm with the Dark Mark on it.

"What are you doing?"

TO BE CONTINUED…

**A/N:** I'd just like to say thanks to my beta Rebecca Robinson, and all of my reviewers-you guys rock!


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